(no subject)
How Two Boys Got Some (in Different POVs): A Portrait of Spencer Smith, Annoyed
PG13
Ryan/Brendon
Video Interview #182
*
"I lost a bet yesterday," Brendon started.
"Less of a bet and more morbid curiosity," Spencer interrupted.
"Well, I lost a bet and Spencer here said I didn't have to do it, but I'm man enough to follow through with the consequences." Brendon reached down to gather his pants at his knees and revealed two rather hairless calves. Spencer stopped fiddling with his sleeves and tried to cover his laughter instead. "We tried to get Ryan to shave his ass, but he wouldn't let me," Brendon added.
Ryan shook his head with a half-smile and stepped out of the frame.
"I'm just kidding." Brendon grinned, showing the camera two rows of neat, white teeth and a curving chin. "Of course he let me."
Spencer rolled his eyes and stepped out of the frame.
"Hee hee," said the cameraman.
Show #427
*
High hat for four measures, ride for eight, crash, crash, splash. People are screaming.
Brendon uses the mic to point to Ryan while twirling the cord.
Paradiddle, fill, fill, snare roll. People are screaming louder.
The lights chime in with the music. Ryan swings his guitar up and turns to face the center of the stage just as Brendon wraps a hand around the back of Ryan's head and pushes their foreheads together. He sings against Ryan's temple for the rest of the song.
People are screaming fucking loud.
BLLAARRHGHGHAHHAAAA, Spencer thinks to himself, then squints as he gets an eyeful of spotlight.
Club Experience #12
*
"Hey." Ryan tugs at Brendon's sleeve once, twice, four times. It has a nice repetition to it, and so he keeps doing it. Tug tug tug. His pants are sticking to the backs of his knees. 'Cause it's fucking hot - inside the club.
Tug tug.
Brendon finally turns to him and asks, "What?" with a big, open smile that says, hello, how amusing. Ryan Ross is probably drunk and I'm quite amused, thank you.
"What the hell did you give me?" The words are coming very slowly. He's still tugging on Brendon's sleeve, he notices - then notices two seconds later and lets his hand drop absently to his side. Spencer passes by and pats him on the head.
"A drink." Brendon shrugs coyly. Always so fucking coy, what the fuck. He leans in toward Ryan: "And don't give me that bullshit, you've cornered the whole market on coy, alright?" He smiles again and lights glint off his teeth. Red, blue, white, yellow, white, white, white -
Ryan blinks. "Did you. Did you roofie me?" he asks, and another question, does he always sound this breathless? He can't really hear it, but Brendon is laughing now, mouth open, head back, neck pale, mouth open, neck smooth, Ryan finds, as he licks (??!) his fingertips and drags them from jaw to collarbone.
Brendon's looking at him again, still laughing a little but a little/really fucking surprised (Ryan can feel it 'cause his fingers move as Brendon swallows); and then he says, "Jesus, I guess I did," with eyes half-mast and now Ryan has bunched Brendon's shirttail into his fist. Ryan does not know how either of these things happened.
White, yellow, white, white, white -
Shower #87 (on the road)
*
There's a bite mark on his shoulder, dotted purple lines and dashes in an incomplete, imperfect circle. Brendon swipes the condensation off the mirror and traces the mark with a fingernail.
When he finishes, he smiles brightly at himself.
Another swipe at a new layer of condensation and he half-turns, keeping his eyes on the mirror, and finds that there're three more marks on his shoulderblades, one on his lower back. Before he can think about these things very carefully, the door opens into his upper arm.
"Oops, sorry."
"Ngh!" Brendon catches the edge of the door before it can close. He looks at Spencer in the mirror, pauses (their heads are separated by the door and it looks funny), and then finally asks, "Christ, Spencer, what the fuck did you put in Ryan's drink?"
PG13
Ryan/Brendon
Video Interview #182
*
"I lost a bet yesterday," Brendon started.
"Less of a bet and more morbid curiosity," Spencer interrupted.
"Well, I lost a bet and Spencer here said I didn't have to do it, but I'm man enough to follow through with the consequences." Brendon reached down to gather his pants at his knees and revealed two rather hairless calves. Spencer stopped fiddling with his sleeves and tried to cover his laughter instead. "We tried to get Ryan to shave his ass, but he wouldn't let me," Brendon added.
Ryan shook his head with a half-smile and stepped out of the frame.
"I'm just kidding." Brendon grinned, showing the camera two rows of neat, white teeth and a curving chin. "Of course he let me."
Spencer rolled his eyes and stepped out of the frame.
"Hee hee," said the cameraman.
Show #427
*
High hat for four measures, ride for eight, crash, crash, splash. People are screaming.
Brendon uses the mic to point to Ryan while twirling the cord.
Paradiddle, fill, fill, snare roll. People are screaming louder.
The lights chime in with the music. Ryan swings his guitar up and turns to face the center of the stage just as Brendon wraps a hand around the back of Ryan's head and pushes their foreheads together. He sings against Ryan's temple for the rest of the song.
People are screaming fucking loud.
BLLAARRHGHGHAHHAAAA, Spencer thinks to himself, then squints as he gets an eyeful of spotlight.
Club Experience #12
*
"Hey." Ryan tugs at Brendon's sleeve once, twice, four times. It has a nice repetition to it, and so he keeps doing it. Tug tug tug. His pants are sticking to the backs of his knees. 'Cause it's fucking hot - inside the club.
Tug tug.
Brendon finally turns to him and asks, "What?" with a big, open smile that says, hello, how amusing. Ryan Ross is probably drunk and I'm quite amused, thank you.
"What the hell did you give me?" The words are coming very slowly. He's still tugging on Brendon's sleeve, he notices - then notices two seconds later and lets his hand drop absently to his side. Spencer passes by and pats him on the head.
"A drink." Brendon shrugs coyly. Always so fucking coy, what the fuck. He leans in toward Ryan: "And don't give me that bullshit, you've cornered the whole market on coy, alright?" He smiles again and lights glint off his teeth. Red, blue, white, yellow, white, white, white -
Ryan blinks. "Did you. Did you roofie me?" he asks, and another question, does he always sound this breathless? He can't really hear it, but Brendon is laughing now, mouth open, head back, neck pale, mouth open, neck smooth, Ryan finds, as he licks (??!) his fingertips and drags them from jaw to collarbone.
Brendon's looking at him again, still laughing a little but a little/really fucking surprised (Ryan can feel it 'cause his fingers move as Brendon swallows); and then he says, "Jesus, I guess I did," with eyes half-mast and now Ryan has bunched Brendon's shirttail into his fist. Ryan does not know how either of these things happened.
White, yellow, white, white, white -
Shower #87 (on the road)
*
There's a bite mark on his shoulder, dotted purple lines and dashes in an incomplete, imperfect circle. Brendon swipes the condensation off the mirror and traces the mark with a fingernail.
When he finishes, he smiles brightly at himself.
Another swipe at a new layer of condensation and he half-turns, keeping his eyes on the mirror, and finds that there're three more marks on his shoulderblades, one on his lower back. Before he can think about these things very carefully, the door opens into his upper arm.
"Oops, sorry."
"Ngh!" Brendon catches the edge of the door before it can close. He looks at Spencer in the mirror, pauses (their heads are separated by the door and it looks funny), and then finally asks, "Christ, Spencer, what the fuck did you put in Ryan's drink?"